Home For the Heartache
by SarenX
Summary: Sixteen year old Dean Winchester is faced with a difficult situation when his dad leaves him at a boarding home with eight other kids, and has come down with what is believed to be a deadly sickness. He's been at the home for two months with nothing to look forward to, but when newcomer Castiel arrives, will things get better for Dean, or take a turn for the worst? AU. Destiel.
1. Meet the Family

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hello, everyone, and welcome to this wonderful story! I want to start off by thanking you all for reading the first chapter of my rusty writing as I venture back into the world of fanfiction. I apologize for it being a little jagged at first, but I promise the quality will get so much better as the chapters go on. I plan on this story being fairly long, so stick around for a while, will 'ya? :)**

**Please keep in mind that this story features some slight plot changes, is AU of course, is Destiel (very heavily Destiel), will contain graphic sex scenes, experimentation, violence, cussing, and other fun gory stuff. Another thing to know about this story is that there WILL be a lot of growth (like age growth) in characters, so time lapses between chapters are going to happen.**

**The story starts out with Teen!Dean and Human!Teen!Cas, and has a couple of our other favorite characters playing different roles, as well as a fair amount of O.C.'s.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Castiel or Dean Winchester characters and/or any of the original story content based off of the show "Supernatural". This story is merely fanfiction inspired by the show and worked into my own ideas of how things should have, or did, play out in an alternate universe.**

**Thank you for reading. :)**

* * *

It was quiet again in the house. Every time the other kids went out to fulfill their daily activities, one was left behind with the burden of an illness contracted from a homeless man who was one of many reported cases infected with a malady that seemed to be popular among the homeless community. It was just another day of solitude, and the house was brisk and damp with cold air and an uncomfortable atmosphere. Dean didn't understand how people could live in places like this, stationed out in the middle of nowhere with so much land to get lost in, but never being allowed to explore it. It was often that he was dropped off at a boarding home, but this time it was different - very different. This time, he was without his younger brother, Sammy, who was his rock, his world, his comfort.

There were plenty of other teens who frequented the home, but none seemed to be interested in acknowledging Dean's existence, especially since he was a lot older than the rest of them. Usually when he was dropped off in a boarding home, it was with his brother and only lasted a short time because his dad's hunting trips didn't take as long as he said they would. A week, maybe two tops, but never more than three weeks. However, this time, he was stuck in this place for over a month and half, nearing two months, and it was driving him insane.

Not only was it hard being away from the only people you can count on, and the only family you have, but it was extremely difficult being in a house full of strangers while being sick and quarantined in the upstairs bedroom with little to no contact with the outside world. The makers of the home were assumed to be a sweet couple, but Dean knew it was all just a fair game they played to parents or agencies that needed a quick place to dump some poor sucker off so they can have a roof over their head for a little while. In all reality, they weren't all they were cracked up to be. The wife was this petite, brunette, little thing who would sing everything she was doing and the husband was just the icing on top of the cake with his rustic demeanor and pompous attitude. It was classic, actually. The wife introduced herself as Bonnie, but insisted that the kids called her "Mother", sort of as a means to make them feel welcome, but Dean repudiated. The husband wasn't much of a character, either, especially with how he introduced himself. 'Hi, I'm Walter, but you can call me Walt', with his shaky, hoarse voice - short and to the point, followed by a furrowed brow and a disappointed glare.

If first impressions were anything to go by, Dean was not impressed. Something about the two just seemed awfully strange, so he made a point to keep his distance. And because of the situation he was in, keeping his distance was fairly easy.

* * *

Before he was brought to this place, he and his dad and brother had been sleeping in his dad's '67 Chevy Impala, travelling from state to state on a hunt to exact revenge on a powerful being that killed his mother. But because of being on the road for so long and visiting so many places, there's only so much your immune system can keep out of your body, and there's only so many places where you can park your car and not have it get broken into.

While the Winchesters were stopped at a gas station, John had parked the car in a dark spot around the back of the facility in efforts to keep the car hidden from criminals and other unworldly creatures, so that the three of them could go inside to stock up on food and drinks for the road. However, during their short time inside the gas station, the Impala had been broken into, but nothing except a couple dollars and a lighter were stolen out of it. John wouldn't have minded so much if the windows were an easy fix, but at this point along the way, it was difficult to find a place to get the car fixed, and it was also difficult to scrounge up the cash to get it done by someone who seemed mildly trustworthy. And since they were so low on cash, John figured it would just be best to block the window with a large black trash bag and hope that water didn't seep through the tape when it rained. But it did, and of course it was on the side where Dean usually slept, so it wasn't a pleasant experience for the eldest Winchester brother to be sleeping on a half damp seat during the coldest time of the year.

Along with having an insanely uncomfortable ride and place to sleep, Dean's stress was building up and he could feel himself coming down with some kind of cold or flu. It also didn't help that his brother was always hogging the small blanket they shared, so naturally, Dean would freeze the majority of the night anyways.

And just when he thought he was starting to get over his cold, Dean came in contact with a very sick, elderly homeless man who was only asking for a bit of help getting to the homeless shelter for a meal and a warm bed to sleep in. Feeling like it was the right thing to do, and despite the risk of getting sick, Dean urged to help the poor man fulfill his wish so that he would have some place to be safe for a night or two. Luckily, Dean was able to score a nice basket of goodies from the homeless shelter to take on the road. It wasn't much, but at least the food was home cooked and wasn't a processed gas station burrito or a soon-to-be-recycled hamburger from a rundown burger joint.

About two weeks went by on the hunt and Dean was getting extremely sick. So sick to the point where it was becoming very difficult for him to even ride in the car without feeling nauseated. He had a fever that was constantly fluctuating, and leading him to believe many times that he was feeling better, when he was probably getting worse. His head felt swollen and his whole body felt weak from coughing so much, and it was even getting hard for him to breathe sometimes. At this point, John felt it was best to continue his search for the monster without Dean. Having a sick son would not only hold him back from successfully finding the thing that killed his wife, but it would also mean that he wouldn't be able to properly care for Dean and would add onto the stress he already had.

A hospital was out of the question because he couldn't leave his sixteen year old son there for more than a week without them opting to shove him into foster care. So, John's only option was to place his son in a home where he could pick him up when he was good and ready. Unfortunately for Dean, his father was far from ready, and because of his sickness, his time there was prolonged.

* * *

The day was going by slowly, as usual, and there wasn't much to do while being cooped up in a secluded room and alone. It was a wonder he'd survived this long without dying of boredom, but Dean always made do with what he had. It was nearing noon and Dean was pretty hungry, but felt too weak to get out of bed and grab something to eat, and neither Bonnie nor Walter was going to be home any time soon.

Frustrated, Dean threw his head back against the hard, wooden backboard of the bed he was given and let out a deep sigh. He sat there in silence for about ten or fifteen minutes before deciding to finally get up out of bed, despite how weak he felt. The only way to get food into his system was to make it himself.

On the way downstairs, he noticed a large white truck in the yard with two people getting out of it - one younger, with luggage, and one older, who was the driver and more than likely a case worker judging by his formalwear. Curious, Dean proceeded downstairs and walked over to the door, opening it to greet them before the older man could knock. He stared out at the two, and then averted his eyes to the younger male carrying the luggage that seemed to be around the same age as him.

"Can I help you?" Dean asked, turning his attention up to the older man.

"Yes, we're looking for Mister and Missus Taylor. Are they home?" The man said, staring down at Dean with a tired, blank expression.

"No, they're out right now, but you can come in and wait for them to get back. M'sure they won't mind." Dean moved a little out of the way to invite the two inside.

The man nodded slightly and walked into the small living room, taking a seat on the plush couch in front of the television set. "When do you think they might be back? It's very important that I speak with them right away." The man urged, his tone becoming somewhat demanding.

Dean walked around the recliner sitting next to the couch and looked at the man for a brief moment, analyzing him before he spoke. "Sorry, what was your name again?"

"I never told you my-" the man was interrupted mid sentence by the other teen in the room. "His name is Richard Hegsman. My mother just died and my dad's a raging alcoholic, and I guess the state didn't like that, so here we are."

Dean's mouth fell open some as he was slightly taken aback by the abrupt interruption by the quiet teen who accompanied the case worker. He gave a quick nod and licked his lips as he took in the situation. "Okay and you are?"

"Oh, sorry, guess I should have included that. My name's Castiel." The teen placed one of his bags on the couch to free a hand and offered it to Dean for a handshake.

"I'm Dean. Just sit tight and the Taylors will be back in a little bit. No need to get your panties in a twist." Dean snarked as he shook Castiel's hand. He then turned around and headed for the kitchen to fix his self something to eat. "Well, I'm going to grab some food. Make yourselves at home."

Castiel proceeded to set the rest of his bags down on the couch next to Richard and quickly followed Dean to the kitchen.

"So, how long have you been here?" Castiel asked as Dean stuck his nose in the fridge.

Dean continued raiding the fridge for something suitable to eat that wouldn't make his stomach churn. "Almost two months now. Hungry?" He said as he pulled out some assorted lunch meats and cheeses from the deli drawer and held them out for Castiel to see.

"No, we just ate - so, how is it here? Do you like it? I've-"

"You sure ask a lot of questions." Dean said as he slapped the packages on the counter and reached for the loaf of bread, untwisting the tie, and taking out two slices to place on the counter separately.

Castiel paused for a moment after getting cut off, and just watched Dean prepare his sandwich before continuing with his comments. "I'm just curious. I've never been to a place like this before."

"And you think I have?" Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Well, have you?" Castiel looked at Dean for a long moment while Dean put the meats and cheeses neatly on his bread.

Dean looked back at Castiel, studying his blue eyes and analyzing the soft features on his face. He pursed his lips a little and went back to the fridge to grab some mustard for his sandwich. Returning to the counter, he squeezed the mustard container, complementing his sandwich with just enough of the bitter condiment so as to not scratch his throat upon consumption, but still enough to get a good taste of it. He placed the remaining piece of bread on top to complete the sandwich and picked it up, holding it while he replied to the interrogator in the kitchen with him. "Hm?" he shoved the sandwich in Castiel's face, offering him a bite, but when Castiel refused, he shrugged and took the first large bite.

"I've been to a few foster homes, boys' homes, or boarding schools in my life. My dad travels." Dean said between bites, now almost half way done with his sandwich.

Castiel watched uncomfortably while Dean practically inhaled the sandwich, arching a brow at the messiness of the mustard dripping on the floor. Dean looked down at it as well and shrugged again, walking past it and out of the kitchen. "Come on, I'll show you around, since you'll probably be staying here."

Castiel nodded slowly and followed Dean out of the kitchen and into the living room where Richard still was. "He's just going to show me around." Castiel informed, continuing to follow Dean up the stairs.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Dean wiped his hands on his pants as he finished his sandwich and pointed down the hallway. "Up here, you'll find all of the bedrooms. There are four bedrooms. At the end of the hall is a bathroom - it's pretty good size. There's also a schedule on it for shower times so the water has time to heat back up and everyone gets at least one shower a day." Dean turned around and pointed to the door leading right off of the stairwell and continued on with his tour. "This is actually my room. It's the only room on this side of the hall because I'm sick, and they've quarantined me to this secluded room. Sorry if I get you sick."

Castiel let out a small breath and nodded along to Dean's words, making sure to take mental notes on all he was saying. "How many of you stay here?" Castiel asked.

"Well, right now, there are eight. Two to a room, but recently, one of the younger kids had to move out of my room, so it's tight quarters right now. But I think one of them is actually leaving soon, so you might be in luck for a bed." Dean explained, walking into his room to grab the cup he was using for water.

Castiel nodded again and looked at Dean, raising his eyebrows at Dean's messy room. "Is your room always that messy?"

"Like I said, I've been - " Dean was cut off for a second by a couple of hard coughs, but continued on with his sentence. "Sick." He drank the last remaining bit of water still left in his glass and coughed a couple more times.

"Maybe you should go lie down. I can get you some more water." Castiel offered, hoping to seem helpful and make a good impression.

Dean drew in a breath and stared at Castiel for a moment before accepting his offer and handing him the glass. "Just wash it first and wash your hands. This is a pretty bad flu. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy."

Castiel gave a slight smile and headed downstairs to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water for his new acquaintance. He passed by Richard and stopped for a second to speak with him about the arrangements he planned on making with the Taylors. "Dean said that there are already eight, including him, here. How am I supposed to fit here?"

At this point, Richard had definitely made himself comfortable, considering he had already flicked on the television and was lounging back on the couch with his feet up on the available ottoman. He looked up at Castiel who had asked him about his arrangement and cleared his throat. "Well, I've spoken with Missus Taylor prior to bringing you here, and she said she would make room for you, so trust me, you'll be fine."

Richard's tone came off as though he was irritated and unwilling to converse with the teen. Castiel puffed his lips out and rolled his eyes, continuing on to the kitchen to refill Dean's glass with water.

"Don't worry, kid, they'll take care of you!" Richard called from the living room, and Castiel shook his head in dismay at his case worker's reluctance to care much about his situation.

Castiel turned on the tap and filled Dean's glass up completely with water, and then went into the freezer to add a couple of ice cubes to make it nice and cold, figuring it would be a nice treat for someone who's sick. He headed back through the living room, exchanging glares with Richard, and then up the stairs to Dean's room where he was fluffing some pillows and stacking them on his bed.

"Here, I put some ice cubes in it." Castiel said, handing the glass to Dean.

"Thanks," Dean took a couple of slow sips of the water and set the cup down on the side table next to the bed. He leaned back against the mountain of pillows he built to help him sit up comfortably and turned on the television.

After a long moment of silence and staring intently at Dean, Castiel finally worked up the nerve to ask him about his sickness. "What is it?"

Breaking his focus on the show he was watching, Dean slowly turned to Castiel with a confused look on his face. "Huh?"

"Your illness. What is it?"

"Uhm, I don't really know. Just know that it hurts when I cough and I've had it since before I came here." Dean answered, and then grabbed his water to sip at it some more.

"Does talking make your throat dry?" Castiel asked, watching a small droplet make its way down the glass in Dean's hand.

Dean put the glass back down again and nodded some. "Sometimes, but it's mainly my chest that hurts. I've been coughing a lot; and more recently, too."

Castiel nodded and turned to look at the television to see what show Dean was watching. "Cartoons? That's your past time?" Castiel shook his head and lowered it a little to hide his growing grin.

"Yeah, man. Nothing else to do and this is the best thing to fall asleep to."

"But it's bright. Doesn't it bother you when it's night time and you're trying to sleep?"

"Nah, I lower the brightness." Dean said, grabbing his water and taking another few sips. "Why, you got any better recommendations?" Dean gave a slight chuckle and finished off the rest of his water.

"Well, I usually just play video games." Castiel said blankly and stared at Dean, waiting for an assumed surprised reacting.

"Oh, yeah?" Dean said playfully, arching an eyebrow, and allowing a grin to tease the corner of his mouth some.

"I brought my system. I can do down and get it."

"Do that, and can you get me some more water?" Dean held out the now empty glass to Castiel.

Castiel accepted the the glass and walked out of the room to retrieve another glass of water for Dean along with his game station. As he made it downstairs to the living room, he noticed that there were more people in the living room than just Richard and the television.

"Oh, here he is. We were wondering where you were, son." Richard said, waving his hand in a gesture to call Castiel over to where he and the Taylors were standing.

Castiel's brow furrowed some as he walked over to the couple and his case worker who were now at the door finishing up the discussion of the details regarding his stay.

"Cas, you'll be staying here permanently until someone files adoption papers for you. We're going to put you on the list of older teens that need homes, so hopefully someone will take interest soon. We'll keep in touch." Richard was very brief with his explanation and something about his tone struck Cas the wrong way. Something wasn't right about this. Cas turned to look at Bonnie, who offered a polite smile and patted his back with one of her petite little hands. He faked a smile and nodded some to Richard who was now on his way out the door to leave.

"We don't have very much room left in the house, so we're going to be splitting up Dean's room and we'll get a bed for you in just a little while...Castiel, was it? I'm Bonnie, and this is my husband, Walter." Bonnie said, her voice was sweet and welcoming, much like the way she tried to present herself.

"Uh, Cas for short." Castiel answered, his tone seeming a bit skeptical of her mention of his full name.

"Don't be late for dinner." Walter commented, his grungy voice tying into his boring and adamant presentation.

Cas let out a soft sigh, nodding to Walter, and giving a short wave to Richard when he honked the horn for one last "adios". He turned back to Bonnie and studied her for a moment, then proceeded off to the kitchen for Dean's second glass of water he promised.

Cas met up with Walter in the kitchen as he filled the glass with water and figured it would be a good idea to strike some small talk to somewhat get to know this man who would be serving as the father figure in his life for now. "So, when is dinner?" Cas asked, turning the faucet off once the glass was full.

"Six o'clock. Sharp." Walter stated bluntly, grabbing a beer out of the fridge and quickly leaving the kitchen to avoid the new family member's small talk.

"Okay, heh, I'll let Dean know." Cas said, following him out into the living room.

"Dean already knows." Walter's voice was scratchy and dry and very, very monotone. He didn't seem like much of a person to Cas, and it was already starting to get under his skin.

"Okay, then." Cas lowered his head, his eyebrows both shooting far up his forehead. His eyes wandered awkwardly around the room, trying to think of something to say to this grumpy old man.

"What are you waiting for?" Walter asked dryly.

"I'll just go back upstairs." Cas decided it was best just to leave it at that and headed back upstairs and into Dean's room.

Dean turned his head to look at Cas who was finally back and smirked at him. "Took 'ya long enough."

"Bonnie and Walter are back, and they're putting me in your room. They're going to separate the room, I guess." Cas said, handing Dean the glass of water and sitting down on the foot of Dean's bed.

Dean's brows shot up in surprise and he set down his water and sat up more. "What?"

"Yeah, Bonnie just told me downstairs. We're going to get a bed soon, too."

"You can't stay in here, I'm sick!" Dean coughed out, and then reached for the water to soothe his throat.

"Do you not..._want_ me to stay in here? Or is it just because you're sick?" Cas asked, a hint of concern growing in his tone.

"No, I don't - " cough. "mind, it's just - " cough. "if you're in here, you'll risk" - cough. "getting sick." Cough, cough, cough. Dean held his hand to his mouth as he let out a few more hard coughs. His face was starting to get a little red due to the constriction on his throat, and the water wasn't helping as much as he'd hoped.

"Are you going to be okay?" The concern in Castiel's voice was more prominent, and he leaned forward for a little bit of support.

"I'll be fine." Dean waved his hand at Cas and downed the rest of the glass.

Cas nodded and stood up, starting towards the door. "Well, I'm going to go get ready to go to the store. I guess I'll pick out a bed similar to the size of yours so it can fit in here..." his voice trailed off as he walked out of the room and down the stairs to meet up with Bonnie.

Dean sighed and looked at the clock next to him. Almost 2:30 p.m.; could this day get any longer? He turned back to the television and turned it up a little bit more and sunk back down into his mountain of pillows, covering himself up some. He stared blankly at the television for a couple minutes, and then kicked the covers off of himself and got out of bed.

"Castiel - wait! I'll come with you." Dean mentioned, following quickly behind Cas as he walked into the kitchen.

Cas turned around and gave Dean a sheepish grin and looked him up and down, mentally commenting on his not-so-appropriate attire to go out shopping in. "You can just call me 'Cas'."

Dean narrowed his eyes a bit, noticing what Cas was trying to tell him about his clothes, and he gave him a light shove to the shoulder, knocking him back a little. "I'll get changed in a minute." Dean wandered off into the kitchen and opened the fridge, searching for something else to drink that will help his cough a little more.

"You're sick, get back to bed!" Walter called out to Dean from the recliner in the living room.

Dean pulled out the small remainder of orange juice still left in the fridge from the other day and opened the cap to quickly down the rest of it. After hearing Walter's comment, he walked into the living room and stared at the man for a second, fiddling with the damp cardboard of the orange juice carton. "I'm just going to go with them to get a bed."

"No, you're going to get back in your own." Walter came back with a stern tone.

"I haven't actually been out of this house since I got here, so let me just -"

"Bed. Now." Walter just wasn't going to give in, especially since he didn't want to risk anyone else in the house getting sick.

"That's bullshit. Absol-" Instead of getting cut off this time, Dean paused in the middle of his sentence as soon as he saw Walter stand up from the recliner with his hand on his belt.

Walter gave Dean a menacing glare as he began to undo his belt buckle.

"Fine." Dean sighed, giving in and slowly making his way back to the staircase. He turned around before going upstairs and glared at Walter, shaking his head as his glare grew harder and meaner.

Walter continued his glare as well, now starting to pull his belt out of the loops.

Dean's jaw clenched tightly, understanding that Walter was completely serious, and decided it wasn't worth the battle this time around. He was just too tired and weak to deal with Walter's attitude. He shook his head again and made his way up the stairs to his room, and climbed into bed. He put the empty carton of orange juice on the floor next to his bedside and pulled the covers up over himself so that he can actually get some rest.

As soon as Dean was almost comfortable enough to fall asleep, he was accompanied by Walter's stocky presence. His eyes trailed up to meet Walter's face, which was showing no expression other than exhaustion and anger.

"What?" Dean barked harshly, the anger in his voice causing it to crack a little.

"What side of the room do you want?"

"Why are you all of a sudden giving me a choice?"

"I asked you a question, boy, now answer it." Walter snapped, advancing towards Dean and kneeling down in front of him next to his bedside.

Dean was now staring at Walter straight in his face, and he could feel his body temperature rising with anger. "The one I'm on. That's what I want." Dean spat out, his voice shaking somewhat.

It wasn't usual for Dean to fear someone as much as Walter made him feel like he had to. Walter was a tough crowd to please, especially if you didn't answer with 'how high' when he instructed you to jump.

"Get some rest, kid." Walter said, a smug smirk inching across his wrinkled, gray face. He reached a hand out to Dean's face and gave him a couple soft smacks on his cheek for endearment and walked out.

Dean rolled his eyes and turned over to face the other wall in the room. At least this one wasn't crowded with people itching to bother him. He let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes, quickly drifting into a light slumber - finally able to rest for a little while.


	2. Comfort on the Homefront

"Are you ready to leave, sweetheart?" Bonnie asked, turning to Cas, car keys in hand and her overloaded purse sitting uncomfortably on her shoulder.

Cas was finishing up putting his belongings at the top of the stairs near Dean's bedroom door, not wanting to put them in the room just yet so he didn't disturb Dean while he slept. He looked down the staircase at Bonnie, who was now standing in the doorway with the front door open. "I'm almost done." He said, heading back downstairs to grab his game station equipment, and then bringing it back up the stairs to set it down next to the rest of his luggage. He counted the bags, taking inventory to ensure all of his belongings were there and nothing seemed out of place.

Cas then stomped back down the stairs, the wood creaking some beneath his feet. He followed Bonnie out the door and to the car, getting in and strapping on the seatbelt in the passenger's seat. He looked over to Bonnie who had just started the car and was adjusting the mirrors. He took a moment to look her up and down, observing her intently. Cas narrowed his eyes at the charms on her bracelet that indicated she was probably a religious type person, judging by the symbols of the cross, jesus fish, peace sign, and other miscellaneous charms.

Bonnie looked at Cas, noticing his admiration for her bracelet and she met his eyes with a bright smile in her own. "I got it at a thrift shop." She said sweetly, playing with some of the other loose charms, turning it around her wrist some.

"Oh.." Cas nodded and gave a brief smile, then turned his head away in embarrassment for her catching him staring at her bracelet.

Bonnie turned away from him as well, looking through her mirrors as she backed out of the yard, careful not to hit anything behind her. "What kind of bed are you thinking of getting?" She asked, placing the gear shifter to the illuminated "D" and hauling off down the street.

"Um, I guess the same kind as Dean; you know, so it fits in the room and doesn't take up too much space..." Cas let his voice trail off as he looked at the window, taking in his surroundings and trying to familiarize himself with the local area.

"Well, let's see what we can find. We'll check out Salvation Army first."

Cas nodded in concurrance to her suggestion and continued looking out the window.

The rest of the drive was quiet. No music, no talking - just the peaceful sound of the occasional turn single and the other cars on the road sweeping by. A couple minutes later, they pulled up to a large factory-structured building.

"This isn't Salvation Army...Is it?" Cas asked in confusion, looking up at the large sign on the building that said "Furniture sales".

"It's inside, dear." Bonnie replied as she turned off the engine, unbuckled her seatbelt, and got out of out the car.

Cas did the same, following her up to the entrance of the building. Like the gentlemen his mother taught him to be, Cas held the door for Bonnie, who nodded sweetly at him as a thank you.

The two wandered down the large hallway stacked with boxes towards the sign that introduced them to the actual Salvation Army they came here to browse through. Immediately, upon crossing the threshold into the store, Cas saw a bed he thought would be a suitable fit for the room, and also seemingly comfortable just by looking at it. It came with a wire base, and didn't sit too high up off the ground, which is actually how he liked it. A stream of excitement filled his eyes and he pranced on over to the bed, waving to Bonnie as she sauntered after him.

"This is the one you like?" Bonnie asked, watching Cas fully examine the bed by sitting on it, laying on it, and bouncing on it some. She subtly looked at the price tag and pursed her lips, thankful the bed wasn't out of her budget.

"Yep, it's perfect." He smiled up at her and nodded his head in approval, content that he found something so quick.

"Well, if you're really sure that's the one you want, I'll let a store clerk know so we can have it delivered later tonight. How's that sound?" She placed a hand on Cas' shoulder and patted it lightly, gesturing him to stand up and follow her to discuss delivery arrangements.

* * *

Upon their return home from the Salvation Army, Bonnie and Cas got out of the car to find Walter out in the yard digging through a patch of ripped up flowers with his arm shoved tightly into a hole in the ground.

Bonnie slung her oversized purse onto her shoulder and walked over to Walter, giving him a light kick in the butt to gain his attention. "What on earth are you doing?"

Walter fell forward a little, his face planting further into the soft pile of dirt infront of him. He pulled back, shaking his head to rid some of the dirt from his face and spitting out the dirt that made its way into his mouth. He turned his head up to look at Bonnie, obvious frustration showing on his face. "Those damn moles are diggin' under the house again. If we don't find 'em and get rid of 'em, they'll sink our whole damn yard and maybe the house!" He yelled, his face turing a vibrant red from anger. He shook his head in annoyance and turned back to the hole, removing his arm to dig at the sides and widen it some so he had more room to dig around inside.

"Are you sure it's moles? Maybe it's sink holes..." Bonnie commented snidely, walking away to follow Cas who was just getting inside the house.

"I'd know if it were sink holes, Bon, but-" Walter turned his head to see she'd had already walked away and he threw his other fist down on the ground, slamming it onto a soft pile of dirt. He continued shoving his other arm down into the hole in search of the mole.

Inside the house, Cas made his way up to the bedroom to see if Dean was still asleep or if he had woken up by chance so Cas could share his exciting news with his new aquaintance. He slowly cracked the door to their bedroom and peered in, resting his eyes on a still sleeping Dean. Cas sighed softly and closed the door slowly, careful not let it slam.

He turned around to face the other side of the hallway with the other bedrooms and ventured down to corridor, glancing into each room to see what they looked like and scope out the place he'd be living in for a while. He explored the closets in the hallway, taking note which one was the linens closet and which one acted as a small storage space for each kid's bathroom essentials. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary, which was nice to know, considering this entire place was just very new to him and he was still very skeptical despite meeting someone he already felt comfortable with.

Cas didn't really know what to think of Bonnie or Walter at this point, except that he could tell Bonnie was just trying to be a nice person at heart and Walter had to have something crawling up his ass all the time for him to be _that_ angry, regardless of the situation.

And although it wasn't much of a cookie cutter home, Cas was thankful that someone wanted to take him in to put a roof over his head and feed him - even make him comfortable. He stood in the hall for a couple minutes, digesting the surroundings a bit more. He turned around to look into one of the bedrooms and sauntered in, checking out the small trinkets resting on one of the side tables next to a twin sized bed. He figured this space belonged to one of the younger kids, given the amateur drawings and toys displayed on the bed and on the floor around the bed.

Cas pursed his lips and picked up what looked like a year book and opened it, observing the young faces neatly lined up on each page. He flipped through a couple more pages and set it back down on the side table where he found it. Something shining in the corner on the window sill caught his eye and he walked over to it, picking up a slim silver band with one charm laced around it that read "mom". A sorrow feeling washed over him and he began to remember his own mother - how beautiful she was. It was only a month since she'd died from a car accident and he was then put into the foster care system when his school noticed she wasn't returning any of their calls about Cas' fast slipping grades.

Times were very rough for Cas, what with his father falling into alcoholism like a never ending cliff of mistakes and regret, his mother being gone, and now being in a strange place with even stranger people. It was a wonder to him how his father got to be that way, but he had no doubt in his mind that it was actually because of his mother. And even though she wasn't exactly a saint, she wasn't a liar, either. She came clean to her husband about her wrongs, which was the concrete cause of his downfall. She had cheated on Cas' father, and for the sake of Cas, the two decided to stick together and hide their pain. However, it didn't work out as well as planned, considering their constant bickering back and forth about even the simplest of things.

Cas shook off the memory and let out a heavy sigh, setting the bracelet back down on the window sill, making sure to tuck the charm back into the corner where it originally sat.

He turned to scan the room once more before deciding to finally leave and see what was going on downstairs, and maybe even explore the rest of his new home. Being the regularly shy guy that he was, he felt already a little comfortable here in this new place, thanks to Dean welcoming him with open arms and good conversation. It was a nice feeling - being wanted and feeling secure, despite the skepticism that still lingered.

The events downstairs weren't as interesting as he thought they would be. Bonnie was now in the kitchen preparing dinner for him and Dean and the other kids who Cas figured would be home soon. He was both eager and nervous to meet them. Walter was still outside, now with a shovel, digging around in search of what he claimed to be a mole digging up the yard.

Cas walked over to the kitchen and stood in the doorway, watching Bonnie cut up some carrots for a stew. He looked the petite woman up and down, endlessly studying her movements. He drew in a deep breath and cleared his throat. Bonnie looked up at him and gave him a quick smile with her eyes and then turned her attention back to her brisk chopping of the carrots.

"What's for dinner? It smells delicious." Cas complimented, taking a large whiff of the salty aroma of beef boullon.

"Oh, just a simple stew, dear." Bonnie replied, her voice soft and sweet as usual. Once she was finished with the carrot she was working on, she moved over to grab an onion and pulled the garbage can over to her side so that she can start peeling it.

Cas stepped forward, offering to take the onion from her. Their eyes met as Bonnie looked up at him and tilted her head in curiosity of his actions. "Oh, you don't have to help me. Maybe you can set the table?" She said, taking back the onion and pointing with her chopping knife to the large round table in the other room adjacent to the kitchen.

Cas followed the knife in the direction it was pointing and nodded his head at sight of the table, and then turned back to Bonnie, his eyes squinting some. "I've never set a table before."

Bonnie chuckled some and walked over to the counter, setting down the onion and chopping knife, and taking out the tray of silverware sitting in the utensil drawer. She turned and handed it to Cas, and he accepted it, holding it up to his chest horizontally to make sure nothing slipped out.

"Forks on the left. Knife and spoon on the right. Knife goes on the inside, closest to the plate, with the serrate facing in." Bonnie instructed, now going back to peeling the onion over the garbage can.

Cas bobbed his head as he walked over to the table, setting each piece of silverware as Bonnie told him so, noticing there were already plates set out for 11 people.

After he was finished placing the silverware accordingly, he returned the silverware organizing tray back to its rightful drawer and turned to Bonnie. "Anything else, um...Bonnie?" He asked, pushing a piece of hair out of his eyes.

"You can just call me 'Mother' if you like, dear. Might make you feel more at home." She said, still focused on the onion in her hand.

Cas forced a slight smile and waved his hand to her in dismissal, fleeing from the kitchen after her awkward comment to address her by "Mother." He stood in the living room for a moment, leaning against the wall closest to the dining area, staring up at the ceiling, pondering his next move.

Cas had barely been at this house for more than four hours and already, he was bored out of his mind. What was there to do around this place, anyways? But as soon as questions started sifting through his head, he heard the door bust open, and three young girls swarmed in.

They were incredibly loud, talking all at the same time, excited and proud and seemingly happy. Cas turned his head to get a good look at them and figured it might be a good idea to introduce himself. He pushed himself away from the wall and approached the tallest girl, who looked to be probably about 14 or 15.

"Hi, uh.. I'm.." He started, but could feel the tightness in his larynx, and he let his voice trail off as the girl stared at him blankly.

She raised her brows high on her forehead, giving him an impatient stare. "You're...?" She started, but was then cut off.

"My name is Castiel, but you can call me Cas, and I'm not from around here, but I just got here, and I'm new, and I'll be staying in Dean's room because there's no other room for me here other than bunking with the sick child." He spat out in one solid breath, as quick as he possibly could. His eyes widened some at his nervous ramble and he let out a deep sigh of discomfort.

The girl smiled cheekily at him and gave him a light pat on the shoulder, easing her way towards him. She looked up and into his eyes, focusing on the deep blue orbs staring back at her. "You don't have to be nervous. We're all pretty nice here, except...Walt...just steer clear of him and you'll be golden." She advised, following her suggestion with a light smile and brightened eyes.

"Thanks, but I already got that hint after trying to speak with him myself, earlier. He's not very friendly." And stating the obvious wasn't very attractive, but Cas went with it.

The girl stared into Cas' eyes for a couple more moments before breaking the gaze and walking around him. "I'm Naomi. And the two little girls that came in behind me are Charlie and Anna."

Cas nodded slowly at the brief introductions and turned to meet Naomi's face again, this time taking in her persona, analyzing her like he did everyone else at the house. "Where are the others? Aren't there eight of you?"

Naomi grinned cheekily and licked her lips, pondering at the enormous amount of curiosity flowing in Cas' tone. "They'll be back just in time for dinner. There's still Michael, Gabriel, Samandriel, and Zachariah. They're all brothers, and they're really annoying." Naomi caught a glint of annoyance growing in Cas' eyes as he learned that there were so many of the same family in one foster home. She pursed her lips and extended a hand, gliding her nails softly against his cheek to brush off a spat of dirt. "They're orphans, you know? And they're young. Dean is the big brother and takes in everyone under his wing, and we all consider each other siblings here. So, you just have to get over it."

Cas nodded again, pushing her hand down from his face with his own. "So, what do you guys do for fun around here?" Cas asked, the nervousness still shaking his tone a bit. He reached his hand to the back of his neck and played around with the short hairs, trying to pass off his obvious nervousness.

Naomi walked around Walter's recliner and took a seat on the couch, looking around for the remote to change the station. "We usually go outside; you know, to the park or the mall or something. Have you ever been in Arizona?" Naomi asked, lifting some of the couch cushions next to her up in search of the remote.

"My mom got a job here about a year go and me, her, and my dad moved up here together...But I don't know very much about this area. The state is still pretty new to me." He explained, now helping her look for the remote.

Naomi flipped over one of the back rest cushions and snapped her fingers, victoriously locating the remote. She turned and sat straight on the couch, and flicked the channel button up to find a decent station. "Tomorrow we're going to the flea market, so you should come along. We all go there. It's pretty fun."

"I've never been to one." Cas said dryly, watching the channels flip as Naomi scanned through.

"To a flea market?"

"Yeah, I've never been." Cas shrugged and leaned back against the couch.

"You're not missing much," a husky voice said behind them as Walter shoved the door open and kicked his muddy boots off. He shook his feet out on the rug in the doorway, and stripped off his over shirt, wiping the sweat off of his face and arms with the dirtied plaid.

Cas turned around and stared at Walter for a moment and bit his lip, not sure how he should respond. Deciding it would be best to just not say anything, he turned back around and looked at Naomi for reassurance, hoping she'd accept his motions to ignore Walter's comment.

"It's fun for _some_ of us," Naomi bit back, a small grin teasing at the corners of her mouth.

"Give me that," Walter snapped, leaning over Naomi and snatching the remote from her grip. He brought his face close to hers, his heavy breath showering her shoulder with warmth and some spittle. "If you knew what's good for you, you'd watch your mouth."

Naomi inched her face a little away from his, disgusted at his filth, and scowled in his face. She stood up from the couch, putting one foot on the cushion she was sitting on and hoisted herself up to stand on the cushion completely.

Cas' eyes went wide at her bravery, and stupidity, and stood up from the couch as well, prepared to back her up if she needed it.

"You're tracking mud in the house, and you stink!" Naomi shouted, reaching out to grab the remote from Walter's grasp, but failed and toppled over the back of the couch, landing on the ground infront of him.

Walter gave a snorting laugh and bent down, waving the remote infront of her face. "Get upstairs and wash up for dinner." He demanded, straightening up and walking around to sit in his recliner.

Cas stared intently at Walter, his body still, and his glare seemingly apprehensive.

Walter glared back at Cas, his stare deepening with anger. "You get on up there, too, newcomer."

Cas stood there, stiff, unmoving until he noticed Naomi walking around after picking herself up off the floor. She grabbed at Cas' hand, pulling him towards the stairs since it was futile to try and stick around to argue with Walter.

Cas allowed Naomi to drag him up the stairs, bringing him into her bedroom where the other two girls were. He pressed his lips together, aggravation showing in his furrowed brow. "I really don't know what his problem is."

Naomi rolled her eyes at his comment and opened the drawer next to her bed, pulling out a notebook and a green pen, and handing it over to Cas. Cas looked down at the notebook, accepting it as well as the pen, and opened it, scanning some of the pages some before looking back at Naomi.

"Just write down your thoughts in here when ever Walter's mean to you, and you'll feel better. We all use it." Naomi soothed, patting Cas on the shoulder and walking past him towards the bathroom at the end of the hall. Cas backed up to her bed, letting the edge of the bed break his fall as his knees buckled. He continued to flip through the pages, scanning through it and reading short passages on each page, handwriting both neat and sloppy and so different from the writers' before it. Uninterested, Cas slowly closed the notebook and set it down on Naomi's bed, topping it with the green pen.

Charlie looked up at him, her eyes carefully watching his movements. She let a weak smile slide neatly across her young face, and turned away quickly when Cas caught her looking at him. He smiled back at her and grunted as he laid back on Naomi's bed, examining the room from an upside down view. He noticed a couple more items floating about the room in hidden places; there were notebooks scattered under beds, stray papers lying in multiple stacks, messily covered with the skirts from the box springs, and a mutltitude of toys lying about.

A few moments later, Naomi came back into the room from the bathroom and noticed Cas sprawled out over her bed, the notebook probably untouched. She picked it up and held it to her chest as she flipped through the pages to the back of it to see if he had written anything down. Disappointment crossed her face when she saw the pages after her own writing were blank, and she closed the notebook slowly, setting it back down on the bed. "You didn't write in it?" she questioned, dismay showing in her tone.

"I might later." He replied shortly, his eyes still wandering around the room.

"It's important." Naomi said simply, turning to Cas as she laid back on the bed next to him.

"Is it?" He turned his head to face her; her face was calm and flushed with a slight rose saturation. He blinked slowly at her and let his mouth hang open some, taking in the soothing calmness of the room, listening to the scribbles from the other girls in the room.

"You should come with us tomorrow," she offered again, halfway smiling at him.

"Will Dean be able to come?" Cas sat up at this point, folding his hands between his legs, glancing out into the hall at his room where Dean was still sleeping.

Naomi sat up as well, looking off into the empty corner space at the other side of the room. "He's sick. Didn't anyone tell you?"

Cas nodded along and turned to look at her. "I talked to him briefly when I first came here today, but he didn't talk much about it. What do you suspect it is?"

"Mother calls it a bad flu, but Walter says it's some n word that I can't pronounce. It's kinda deadly if you don't take care of it."

Cas sighed softly and dropped his head, now staring at the peach carpet. "I think I know what you're talking about," he said softly, and drew in another breath. "Why don't they just take him to the hospital? They'll help him there."

Naomi shook her head and groaned, wiping her tired eyes with the backs of her hands. "We used to have a doctor who came here for the first week, but they couldn't pay her."

Now it was all coming clear to Cas. Dean was sick, and was quarantined because no one wanted him passing on his sickness, but they couldn't take proper care of him because they were low on money. Cas leaned back against Naomi's pillows and stared out the window for a moment, blankly pondering to himself about Dean's situation. It was bothering him that no one was doing anything about this sick teenager who could possibly die if left without medical attention.

"How long has he actually been sick? I remember him telling me that he's been here a couple months, but has he been sick for that long?"

Naomi hummed a little as she rocked back and forth on the bed. "Mmm, I think so."

Cas chewed the inside of his mouth some and brought himself to the edge of the bed where he stood again. He turned around, glancing at Charlie and Anna still scribbling away in coloring books, and then focused his attention directly on Naomi who was still rocking back and forth. "Do you not understand that this is very serious, Naomi? You just said it yourself - Dean could **DIE**."

Naomi forced her gaze to meet Cas', and sadness instantly grew in her eyes, water forming in the corners. "I don't think Walter really likes Dean," Naomi whispered, and then drew her head back in a shy manner, placing an index finger to her mouth and pursing her lips.

"You think that Walter's not taking care of Dean because he doesn't like him? Or because these people don't have money?" Cas was extremely concerned now, and anger was building up in him quicker than he could control.

Abusers. These people were abusers. Hoarding eight kids, one of them seriously ill, and they have the nerve to accept a newcomer? This was absurd. Cas wrung his hands in disbelief, his eyes darting around the corners of the room as his anxiety set in.

"I don't really know," Naomi admitted, her rocking now halted, and her head lowering in shame.

Cas' eyes softened as his shoulders slumped, feeling bad for upsetting the girl. He kneeled down in front of her and looked up into her deep blue orbs. Naomi shifted her gaze to another corner of the room, refusing to look Cas in the eyes, for she felt sorrow for Dean and couldn't explain to Cas what he wanted to hear. Cas drew in a deep breath and patted Naomi's knee softly, then stood back up and exited the room, Naomi maintaining her current position.

* * *

"Dinner's ready!" Bonnie called from the bottom of the stairs. She wiped her hands off on the rag she held and turned to look at Walter, who was still lounging in his recliner and watching television. Bonnie shifted over to Walter, grabbing the remote and clicking off the television set, hushing a protesting Walter and pointing to the kitchen. "Go get washed up for dinner. You're filthy. The boys will be back soon and we can start." Bonnie instructed, and Walter grumbled something haughty under his breath.

She smirked as he obeyed, walking to the door after hearing a series of knocks. She flung the door open to two men in red polos with Salvation Army's logo in them. She nodded her head in approval of their appearance and looked past them at their truck, indicating the delivery of Cas' bed. "Well, that was quick. We were only there about four hours ago."

"We just need you to sign here," one of the men said, handing her a clipboard with delivery papers attached to it. Bonnie provided her John Hancock and handed the clipboard back to the delivery men.

"It'll go in the bedroom just right off the top of the stairs, boys." Bonnie called out as they started walking towards the truck to unload the bed.

* * *

Weary green eyes fluttered open as Dean came to, woken up by the fierce sound of stomping and banging and yelling going on downstairs. Slowly, he stretched his arms out under his pillow and extended his legs just past the foot of the bed, then recoiled back under the covers for a few extra moments of comfort. He turned over at the sound of the room door opening, looking at Cas who was standing in the doorway. Dean shrugged the blanket off of his shoulders and sat up some, trying to come to, and rubbing the tired out of his eyes.

"You look like shit." Cas said dryly as he walked over to Dean and sat on the bed next to him. He reached a hand out and felt the warmth on Dean's forehead, frowning at how hot his skin was. He wasn't expecting to see Dean looking like he felt worse after getting sleep, but it was also quite hot in their room now, especially without the fan on. Cas pressed his lips together and ran his hands through Dean's hair, comforting him some.

Dean sat up fully and ran his hands over his face, rubbing them up and down to soothe and loosen his skin. "Thanks." Dean responded lately, his voice scratchy from coughing so much. He looked over at the clock on his side table that read 6:04 and slowly leaned back against the backboard of the bed. His head was pounding, his brain slamming against his skull, and the pressure of the headache making it hard for Dean to hear. He let out a light groan and sat there staring at Cas, his face pale from exhaustion. "Dinner ready?"

"Yeah," Cas spoke softly, almost at a whisper. He studied Dean for a long while; the two of them just sitting there in silence. Dean coughed a few times and Cas grimaced, and placed a hand on Dean's ankle. "Pneumonia." Cas' voice was still soft, but it was prominent enough to catch Dean's attention, and Dean lifted his head to look at Cas.

Dean stared blankly at Cas with a sorrow expression painted on his face. He tilted his head a little and pushed himself forward, coming to the edge of the bed to sit next to Cas. "You might be miserable in here with me." Dean coughed out, careful to cover his mouth each time he'd cough.

Cas sighed and put a hand on Dean's back, rubbing it gently to comfort him again, but Dean shrugged it off as he stood and turned to look down at Cas. "Dinner's ready." Dean said nodding his head in the direction of the door, gesturing to Cas that they should probably head downstairs.

Cas chewed the inside of his mouth again, pondering his next response, but he didn't really have one. There was nothing he could say to Dean. He felt so bad for him, and just wanted to help him get out of this abusive situation. There wasn't much that Cas knew about him, but he could tell a lot about his character just by looking at him. Dean was a stubborn person - very stubborn - to the fact that he avoided confrontation when it came to matters regarding himself. How he got this way, Cas didn't know, but he wanted to. And it bothered him that it was such a secret, and such a treat, to get to know this person who came into his life so perfectly.

It wasn't often that Cas felt like he needed to help someone, but something was different about Dean. He seemed like a sarcastic, but very sweet person - someone Cas could see himself becoming extremely good friends with. The only downfall to wanting to help someone, is that they couldn't be helped if they didn't want it in the first place. And by judging from Dean's attitude, he seemed so far gone to not even _care_ about seeking help, even if it was just for emotional support.

Cas bowed his head and stood up from the bed, slowly walking towards Dean and moving him out of the way to make room for the Salvation Army delivery movers who were hauling his bed up the stairs. They watched as the men placed the bed on the opposite side of the room and clunked it down, and starting to set up the frame to make it ready for sleeping. Dean looked at Cas and shrugged, nudging him towards the stairs so they could go down and have dinner with the rest of the household.

* * *

The other boys had come home from their outside adventures and joined the table for dinner during the short time that Cas was upstairs with Naomi and Dean. Surprisingly, Cas hadn't realized that they came into the house, despite their rough entrance that actually woke Dean up.

The pack of 11 ate dinner mostly quietly. Bonnie and Walter exchanged glances once in a while, but mainly kept their faces in their bowls as they ate; Dean and Cas sat next to each other, Naomi and the other girls sat next to each other - Naomi sure to sit next to her newfound friend Castiel, and the other four boys sat in close quarters as well. Everyone kept to their own clique, and not very many conversations were to be had over dinner.

It seemed odd to Cas that a household with so many people - so many kids - could be this silent over what was supposed to be the loudest and most social event of the day. However, he wasn't complaining. He'd had a long day as is, and his thoughts were focused elsewhere, not really concerned about the others around him, besides Dean of course.

He didn't know what it was, but Dean had a special thing about him that made Cas instantly attracted to want to know him. He was this bundle of secret insecurities, someone who was locked away in a closed shell and seemingly not one who would open up at the hint of a question. He was mostly reserved, and Cas respected that, but that still didn't stop him from wondering.

Not only did Cas wonder about Dean, but Dean was thinking about Cas' past, too. Thinking about the first thing he said when he snidely cut off his case worker and blurted out his reason for coming to this place. Dean could understand Cas' frustration for wanting to feel nervous and out of place; he also understood that it was hard to deal with the death of a parent, although he lost his mother at such a younger age compared to Cas' new hardship.

The two exchanged brief glances as they finished up their meals together and Dean offered to take Cas' bowl to the kitchen to wash them, and then head back up to their room to get some more rest. Cas was happy to accept, and Dean did as he offered, and the two booked it up to their room. On the way in, Cas settled into his bed, bringing his belongings into the room from the hallway, and unpacking some of his easily accessible items. He mostly unpacked clothes because he didn't want to get too comfortable here, in hopes that some how he'd get picked up by a relative and he wouldn't have to pack up all of his stuff again.

Dean was sitting back on his bed at this point, watching as Cas unpacked, and also turning up to watch more cartoons on the television set now restationed closer to his bed to make room for Cas' bed.

* * *

Bonnie and Walter finished up their dinners last, watching as the other children in the household bolted from the table, washing their dishes, and going outside to spend more time in the yard before the sun went down and the day finally ended. It seemed like a pretty happy household for the most part, but there were many things that Bonnie and Walter had to discuss about Cas' new sleeping arrangements.

Bonnie knew that nurturing nine children, three who were well old enough to 'fend for themselves, would be a hassle, and she was in a hurry to find them forever homes. Money was running tight, and the disability check that Walter provided wasn't sufficient enough to keep the household going and paying for the necessities of all the children. Bonnie spent a lot of time contemplating the situation on the couch while Walter resumed his regular television watching.

The sun was quick to set on the little household of 11 and when it was time, Bonnie called the others in to come in and get ready for bed, with little social time in between. It was a nice feeling having these children here, but the Taylors were growing irritable and old and they just didn't have it in them anymore to provide a stable environment for the kids. It was a usual case that when Walter went to sleep, Bonnie would stay up and ponder some more about living arrangements, and then fall asleep on the couch.

And there she lay, asleep, while the kids were upstairs socializing still at the late hours. Walter was fast asleep in the master bedroom, drunk from the exhaustion of the monotonous lifestyle he lived. It wasn't always easy going to sleep at night with such heavy thoughts, but all of the members in the house had something to think about before they drifted off into dreamland. And in the morning when they would wake, the new day would bring them just as much stressful excitement as one before it.


End file.
